


Shadow Box and Double Cross

by GloriaMundi



Category: This Means War (2012)
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaMundi/pseuds/GloriaMundi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years of covert surveillance have failed to turn up a single incident of FDR's partner Tuck exhibiting homosexual tendencies. (Hey, a guy can hope.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow Box and Double Cross

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valderys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/gifts).



Years of covert surveillance have failed to turn up a single incident of FDR's partner Tuck exhibiting homosexual tendencies. (Hey, a guy can hope.) But that little speech in Nana's garden, that man-to-man chat -- god, it'd gotten FDR's hopes up again, even though he'd promised himself no more lost causes. The way Tuck had stared into his eyes, open and honest and telling FDR "I love you" -- and sure, yeah, they both say it all the time: hang on, was it _Tuck_ started that? -- and then, when FDR's mouth was dry with unspoken words, Tuck went ahead and landed the bombshell. "Can you imagine all that … with a woman?"

Well, hell.

How could a guy have their kind of, of _partnership_ , with a chick? He wants to meet the girl who can keep up with Tuck in the field, give as good as she gets, deal with Tuck's secrets and his kid and his warped sense of humor and --

Actually, fuck that. FDR doesn't want to meet that girl at all.

*

Tuck's not blind, and he's not stupid. He can tell when someone's interested in him, whether it's a man or a woman. He doesn't let himself reciprocate if it's not a woman. Well, to be fair, he doesn't let himself reciprocate if there's any possibility of repercussions. And by repercussions he means FDR.

Monte Carlo's probably … yeah, that was the last time Tuck hooked up with a bloke. Sasha. Russian trapeze artist. Interesting ink. _Fabulous_ muscles. Perfectly happy to fill Tuck in on the details of a diverted arms shipment, after he'd filled --

Yeah, well. He doesn't do that any more. (Not for real, anyway, though he's got a couple of DVDs starring a muscular blond who's just as flexible as Sasha.) Didn't like the way it felt to have FDR glance at the bite-mark on Tuck's neck, and smirk, and say, "I thought you said it was a guy gave you the lowdown."

*

It takes FDR less than ten minutes to locate Tuck's profile on ItsFate.net. For one thing Tuck's used a mugshot that's appeared on more than one false ID; for another, 'John Harrison' is an alias that's appeared on several of those IDs. (Okay, cool: it's a legal identity, but not one that could compromise Tuck's job.) FDR can't help laughing as he skims the profile. _Physically fit_ is an understatement in so many ways. _Travel agent_ , yeah, live the lie. _It can be a lonely life_ gives FDR pause: how the hell is Tuck lonely? They hang out together all the time. And _looks / ethnicity / age unimportant_ … it's obvious that Tuck has no idea how desperate that sounds.

There's no way this is gonna end well for Tuck. Best case scenario, he gets his heart broken all over again. He's only just now gotten over Katie.

Worst case scenario? Tuck meets _that special someone who makes me a better person_.

What the fuck? FDR isn't even gonna give that the time of day. A good friend would intervene. And Tuck is FDR's best -- maybe his only -- true friend.

*

Kandahar was a complete balls-up, start to finish. It's been Tuck's first encounter with FDR, years before he'd been seconded to the CIA. He'd already heard plenty about 'Franklin Foster', the CIA hit man who thought he was James Bond. He hadn't expected a baby-faced pretty boy with big blue eyes and an even bigger ego.

Technically, they'd been on opposite sides. Tuck's squad had been tasked with extracting a spymaster: the CIA team were going for the easy option, a quick and dirty assassination with no witnesses. But the Americans had cocked up big time, and FDR and Tuck had ended up in the same compound, fighting shoulder to shoulder, no time for anyone to be the bigger man.

Tuck'd swiped a spare clip from FDR's pocket, and FDR'd bitched about Brits who never came prepared, and he'd made some smart-arse retort about it being quality not quantity -- FDR'd shoved him, and there'd been a shot, and suddenly he'd had FDR's weight against him, FDR's blood on his hands, FDR's insane grin. FDR saying, "Put up or shut up," and Tuck'd put up, and got the two of them out of there, back to his squad, back to the medic and eventually --

They'd come a long way since that dusty twilight standoff, but Tuck still remembers the press of FDR's shoulder against his, the knowledge that this man had his back, the sudden soaring thrill of being perfectly in sync with an equal.

*

_Hi JohnHarrison30, I was checking out your profile and I think you are the guy for me. Sounds like you have a sense of adventure and would take a chance on someone like me. I like sports, I like to go paintballing, maybe eat a pizza after, kick back in front of the TV, act like a teenager. (I'm not a teenager BTW.) WLTM someone who's into the same things as me, for mutual good times!_

*

_Hi SmoothOperator31, Thanks for your interest but I have to confess I've already had a first date with a lovely lady and it wouldn't be fair for me to string you along. Thanks for your interest, hope you find the right man for you soon!_

*

FDR wouldn't be the red-blooded American guy he is if his brain (or maybe something lower down) hadn't immediately screamed 'Threesome!' at him once he found out he and Tuck were both dating Lauren. He's pretty sure Lauren would be up for it: would Tuck? (It's not something they've ever done. Tuck's always faded into the background when FDR gets lucky. Which, he has to say, happens a _lot_.)

How would it go? Lauren and her endless legs and her neat curves, moaning as he kissed her. Tuck pressed up behind her, hard against her ass, all ink and muscle and sweat.

FDR's had Tuck's sweat all over him -- and his blood, and tears after Katie left. He knows how Tuck smells after a workout, the brand of deodorant he likes, the aftershave Nana buys for him. He can't even remember what perfume Lauren was wearing.

*

Yes, all right, so Tuck still has a very clear (and reliably erotic) memory of that morning in Bangladesh when he tracked down FDR to the back room of a casino frequented by the diplomat they'd been shadowing. The diplomat's bodyguards had been surprisingly effective: it'd taken Tuck several hours to track them from the bar where they'd grabbed his partner.

The windowless room was stiflingly hot. There was no furniture, just a mattress on the floorboards, with FDR starfished on it, taking up all the space as usual, dead to the world (but not _dead_ , not the way he was snoring). Sweat beaded his skin, making the fresh bruises gleam. He was naked.

Tuck had wasted -- no, _spent_ \-- a moment just staring, committing to memory the pattern of hair on FDR's chest and belly, the lusciousness of his cock, the familiar sweep of his long eyelashes, his muscular thighs. (Tuck remembers the urge to touch, the desire to feel those muscles clench around him.)

It had felt like hours, standing there in the close airless room. It was well under a minute. Then Tuck'd gone about waking FDR, getting him upright, helping him into a pair of polyester trousers and a t-shirt advertising a cocktail bar in Ibiza which Tuck is still tempted to visit.

And then there was shouting, and mayhem, and the two of them getting the hell out of Dodge. Tuck doesn't bother remembering _that_. Just the heat, and the sight, and the desire.

*

_Hi JohnHarrison30, that's a crying shame, I was hoping we could get to know each other. Glad you have found someone special, hope she's hot like me! Stay in touch, hey? if it doesn't work out for you, you'll have a backup._

*

_Hi SmoothOperator31, thanks for your confidence! As it happens she (the girl I mentioned) is also dating my best mate, which is a pain in the arse 'cos he's good-looking and a really brilliant bloke. Wanker :) He does tend to attract the ladies tho so I might end up losing this one :(_

*

How long does it take to get a girl into bed? FDR's been calling Tuck for at least an hour and he's starting to worry. Okay, so he doesn't know where Tuck's taken her, but bros before hos, right? FDR never lets any of his girlfriends get between him and his partner. He's bent the truth more than once to get out of a boring date and head over to Tuck's place for the evening. It's easier with Tuck.

But it's been a while since Tuck was out there dating. FDR tried to set him up with a couple of girls after Katie left, but he guesses it was too soon. Hell, Tuck doesn't even flirt with women. Not seriously, anyway. (And it's not like FDR hasn't been showing him how it's done, these last couple of years.) Maybe he can't get it up, or something. Maybe he's -- okay, FDR knows the kind of porn Tuck downloads, _Pulp Friction_ , _Inglorious Bitches_ , that kind of thing. Kinda tame, but FDR guesses it does the job.

He doesn't want to think about Tuck having actual _sex_. ("With a _woman_ ," supplies Tuck's voice in his head -- that conversation in Nana's garden, where this all started.)

He's got to man up. He's got to stage an intervention.

*

 _Fuck_ FDR. Just fuck him. Arsehole. Tuck's furious. FDR slept with Lauren. "No, _slept_ ," he'd insisted, as though that were the issue.

And in a way, it is. It's reminded Tuck of that night in Barcelona, when FDR'd hooked up with some leggy blonde bird within minutes of entering the bar, leaving Tuck to do the actual work of isolating their contact and making the deal. Typical smooth operator, though to be fair Sade's Diamond Life had been playing, and FDR'd confessed a while back that Sade was his go-to girl for getting girls in the mood. "Works on me, too," he'd told Tuck, who'd scoffed and said he reckoned FDR was never _out_ of the mood.

So FDR'd headed off with his new friend, and Tuck'd done the deal and been in his hotel bed, alone, by midnight.

At 2 am the other side of the mattress had dipped, and he'd felt FDR's familiar weight -- freshly showered, which was a blessing and a damned shame -- slide into bed beside him.

"Couldn't get it up?" he'd inquired sweetly.

"Couldn't sleep," FDR'd said.

"So you thought you'd come back and keep me awake? Cheers, mate."

"Nah," FDR had said, yawning. "Always sleep just fine with you."

 _Fuck_ FDR.

Yeah, right.

*

_Hi John Harrison (is that your real name? John?) Sucks that your best friend is dating your girl, but all's fair in love and war, don't they say?_

_Actually I have a confession to make, I don't know how you'll take this, but there is one thing on my profile that is a lie._

_I'm not a woman._

_(I checked just now. Still not a woman. Fully functional.)_

_I'm a bisexual male, and you are DEFINITELY my type. (See above under 'fully functional' and that was just your photo :) )_

_How does that make you feel?_

_If you're feeling adventurous let me know._

*

**About SmoothOperator31:**  
 _"Hey there! Are you single? Adventurous? Like a walk on the wild side? Open-minded about dating? Bored of the same old scene? Single white female looking to meet someone fun, honest and sensual to share in the fun bits of life. Minimum waste and maximum joy, baby, like the song says!"_

*

_Hi John Harrison, did u get my last message?_

*

_Hello? 'John'?_

*

"You have absolutely no self control," Tuck spits at him. "What about the rules, eh?"

FDR's still feeling warm and loose and happy. "Fuck the rules. This is not a game any more. I really care for her."

"Great," says Tuck bitterly. "You have affections. Congratulations! Only took you thirty years."

"No place for beginners and sensitive hearts," says FDR. "Sorry, _mate_. I guess the best man won."

Tuck's looking at him like … like he's trying to puzzle something out. "Brilliant," he says. "Maybe in another thirty years you'll manage to find your own words for emotions."

"What?" demands FDR. He's pissed now.

"You were quoting Sade," Tuck informs him. "Smooth …. Operator."

And FDR can see the moment Tuck gets it. Gets that FDR's been, what was it, _stringing him along_ with a fake id on an internet dating site. Worse, he can see the moment that Tuck knows he's come to the right conclusion. There must be something in FDR's expression that's given the game away.

"It was you," says Tuck quietly. "SmoothOperator31. It's you."

"What?" says FDR again.

"And for once in your life you haven't got a cover story lined up," says Tuck. He's grinning. "Something you want to share, _Franklin_? Are you feeling _adventurous_?"

Fuck it.

FDR takes the plunge; says, "Yeah, as it happens, I am."

*

"Seriously, Franklin. 'One thing in my profile that's a lie'? _One_? You're a crappy liar."

"Fooled you for long enough."

"I never thought you'd -- oh. Yesssss. That."

*

"I've wanted this for years, Tuck."

"Yeah, me too. If I'd known you played for both teams .. What I want to know is, how the hell did you find time, with all those birds? … No, wait, you didn't, did you? You haven't been with a bloke for ages."

"I experimented in college!"

"So I'm an experiment, am I, mate?"

"No … No, you're just you."

"And out of the two of us, I'm the one who's kept their skills up … to … date."

"Fuck. Your _mouth_ , Tuck, I … fuck."

"Care for a refresher course?"

*

"What about Lauren?"

"Oh god. Lauren."

"You can tell her. You're so _smooth_ with the ladies. Such an --"

"Fuck you! _You_ tell her."

"Toss you for it."

"I -- Hey! No fair!"

"All's fair in love and war. A good friend told me that."

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> "Smooth Operator" - Sade [which is the perfect FDR song!]
> 
> He's laughing with another girl  
> And playing with another heart  
> Placing high stakes, making hearts ache  
> He's loved in seven languages  
> Jewel box life diamond nights and ruby lights, high in the sky  
> Heaven help him, when he falls  
> Diamond life, lover boy  
> He move in space with minimum waste and maximum joy  
> City lights and business nights  
> When you require streetcar desire for higher heights 
> 
> No place for beginners or sensitive hearts  
> When sentiment is left to chance  
> No place to be ending but somewhere to start 
> 
> No need to ask  
> He's a smooth operator  
> Smooth operator, smooth operator  
> Smooth operator 
> 
> Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, western male  
> Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale 
> 
> Face to face, each classic case  
> We shadow box and double cross  
> Yet need the chase 
> 
> A license to love, insurance to hold  
> Melts all your memories and change into gold  
> His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold 
> 
> No need to ask  
> He's a smooth operator  
> Smooth operator, smooth operator  
> Smooth operator 
> 
> Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, western male  
> Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale 
> 
> Smooth operator, smooth operator


End file.
